


Hold Me Close

by Archer973



Series: Drift Comfort [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Drift Side Effects, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 15:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21322570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer973/pseuds/Archer973
Summary: When Jake has a nightmare, it's not just his sleep that is interrupted. Lots of things may have changed since they were cadets, but some things... some things remain the same.
Relationships: Nate Lambert/Jake Pentecost
Series: Drift Comfort [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537207
Comments: 3
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really have no excuse for this, it is literally just shameless fluff that has been sitting on my computer for ages and that I finally decided to let see the light of day. Strap in for completely ridiculous fic-y use of the residual drift, snuggling, and a bed that is far too small for two grown men.

**Chapter 1**

_The kaiju dug its claws into Gipsy, ripping at the helmet. Amara screamed, no, not Amara, Mako, Mako was there, beside him, clinging desperately to the frame as the kaiju slashed at her, catching her leg_

“_Jake! Jake, help me!”_

“_Mako! Mako, I've got you! I've got you!” He reached out. Mako reached for him, fingers straining. He stretched. He was going to get her, going to save her this time, he wasn't going to let her die–_

_The kaiju sank its claws into her, ripping her away. It was Amara now, Amara dangling from the kaiju's claws, and Mako was beside her, their blood spilling out, covering him. He screamed, screamed their names, fighting to get to them._

“_Mako!”_

“Jake!”

“_Mako! Amara!”_

“Jake! Jake, wake up! It's a dream, dammit! Wake up!”

Jake came awake violently, striking out blindly at the shape looming over him. Warm hands grabbed his wrist, yanking his punch to the side, and Jake felt the hum on his skin that could only mean one person: Nate.

All the fight left him and Jake let himself sink back onto his painfully thin mattress. Nate looked at him for a second, perhaps worried about another punch coming his way, then let go of Jake's wrist. Jake looked at him, realizing with a start that Nate was wearing nothing but a pair of military-issue sweats and that he had _definitely_ kept up with his workout routine.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jake demanded, glaring up at Nate, hoping his ire would cover the fact that he had most definitely been ogling his old friend.

“I felt the nightmare,” Nate replied evenly, putting his hands on his hips, which really did _not_ help Jake not stare. Then he realized what Nate had said.

“You felt it?” he repeated, looking up at Nate's face again. “You mean...?”

“I guess the drift is just as strong now as it was back then,” Nate said, pressing his lips together in something close to a frown, but not quite it. For a moment neither man spoke, just looked at each other. Then Nate sighed, dropping his head. When he lifted it, there was a determined expression on his face that suddenly made Jake very, very nervous.

“Move over,” Nate said, stepping closer to the bed and grabbing hold of the blanket.

“What?!” Jake yelped, not even caring that his voice was suddenly high enough to belong to a five year old girl. Nate rolled his eyes.

“We _both_ know that if you go back to sleep alone, you're just going to have another nightmare, and I want to get _some_ sleep tonight, so...” Nate tugged on the blanket, but Jake had a death grip on it, so it barely moved. Nate frowned, pulling harder, then shrugged and just lifted the edge, sitting down on Jake's bunk, which was big enough to hold Jake himself, but _definitely_ not designed for two people.

“Nate, what the hell – ”

“Oh shut it, Jake, you act like we've never done this before. We both know you sleep better with someone else in the bed with you,” Nate said, rolling his eyes as he flopped back onto the bunk, yanking the blanket viciously over him, making Jake squawk at the sudden draft. “Now shut up and roll over. I want to get _some_ sleep before training tomorrow.”

“What, you think you're the big spoon?” Jake demanded, pulling fiercely back on the blanket, but Nate had trapped it under him and Jake knew from experience it would take a damn jaeger to get it loose. Suddenly a strong, warm arm wrapped around Jake's waist and yanked him over, pressing his back to Nate's very, very warm chest.

“I'm always the big spoon,” Nate replied evenly, acting for all the world as if this was completely normal. Eleven years ago, it had been, but now... “And besides, you like being the little spoon. You always have.”

“Things change, you know,” Jake grumbled, but he could feel himself relaxing, the comforting hum of the residual drift that had called Nate to his room soothing him.

“Not this,” Nate replied, and Jake could hear the grin in his voice as he curled himself around Jake, burying his face in the back of Jake's neck, his arm curling up and around so he could press his hand onto Jake's chest, over his heart. “Now sleep, Pentecost. We've got teenagers to wrangle in the morning, god help us.”

Jake wanted to protest, to argue, but the feel of Nate pressed against his back had taken all of the fight out of him. So instead he let go, let himself relax into the hold of his oldest friend, let himself pull Nate's arm around him like the best blanket in the world and follow the curve of his body with his own. He could feel Nate smiling against his neck, but he didn't say anything, just pressed his cold nose into Jake's neck and laughed when Jake cursed. Nate was still laughing as Jake fell asleep, and that laughter chased away the nightmares that had been lurking, filling Jake's night with very, very different dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for a tiny use of the f-slur. Seriously, it's only used twice, once in a memory and once in reference to that memory. Also tiny mention of child abuse, one line that hints, nothing graphic at all.

**Chapter 2**

Jake woke and the first thing he thought was _warm_. Grinning, he snuggled into that warmth, pulling the arm that was draped across his chest tighter in around him, pressing himself backwards into the warm, strong body that lay at his back.

A warm strong body that was definitely, _definitely_ male.

Jake froze, his eyes snapping open. Everything from the previous night came rushing back in: the nightmare, Nate shaking him awake, Nate shirtless, _Nate climbing into his bed_... Oh he was so screwed. So, _so_ screwed.

Moving gingerly, Jake tried to slide away from his still sleeping bunkmate. Nate, however, was apparently having none of it, for his arm tightened around Jake's chest and he pressed his face into the back of Jake's neck, grumbling. He shifted, pressing the whole line of their bodies together once more and Jake just about passed out, because he could definitely, _definitely_ feel _all_ of Nate's body, and his body was apparently quite happy to be curled around Jake like a damn octopus.

Ignoring the fact that his own body was very, very interested in staying pressed up against the warm, angled planes of Nate's torso, Jake moved again, trying to turn and slide out from under Nate's arm. He got about two millimeters, however, before Nate tightened his grip, effectively pinning Jake against him.

“Quit fuckin' squirmin', Jake,” Nate grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep, pressing his face into the back of Jake's neck. Jake felt his heartbeat triple at the sound of Nate's voice, and knew that he was completely fucked.

“You're awake?” he asked hesitantly, turning his head so that he could half see Nate's rumpled blond bedhead, though the other man was pressed so close against him that it was hard to see even that.

“Course I'm awake, some _jackass_ wouldn' stop movin',” Nate replied, lifting his head just enough so he could glower down at Jake. Jake could barely breath. The last time he had been this close to Nate... But maybe he didn't remember. Please, gods, don't let him remember.

Nate's eyes softened. Jake realized with horror that if the residual drift was strong enough for Nate to have felt his nightmare all the way across the barracks last night, then with him laying here, pressed against Jake from chest to toe...

“I remember,” Nate said quietly, the sleep gone from his voice. Jake's heart jumped into his throat and he knew that everything was over.

Because Jake had lied to Amara. He remembered _exactly_ what the fight had been about, the fight that had led to him jumping into a jaeger alone, the fight that had led to him being kicked out of the Academy. And it hadn't started with a fist.

It had started with a kiss.

A kiss, innocent and tentative, but so, so powerful. A kiss that had brought his whole world down around his ears, a kiss that had made him feel like he was invincible, a god, perfect and floating and so _warm_... until that word. That one cruel, terrible word...

“_Get away from me, you __**faggot!**__”_

He could still hear Nate's voice spitting out that word, even though his lips were swollen from where _he had kissed Jake back_. He had pressed his fingers into the back of Jake's head, pressed his body against Jake's own, kissed him back like he wanted to devour him... and then he had pulled away and said that _word_.

“Jake...” Nate's voice was different now, deeper, more steady. But Jake could still hear the undercurrent of the teen he had been, could still hear the boy he had sparred with, lived with, laughed with, drifted with, _fallen in love with_...

“That day is my biggest regret,” Nate said, shifting so that he could look down at Jake fully, letting Jake fall onto his back with the absence of Nate's chest there to support him. Jake looked up at him, suddenly feeling exhausted. He was sick of pretending, sick of acting like nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong, that nothing was different, that _he_ wasn't different.

“I figured you were glad to get rid of the _fag_ you had to share your head with,” Jake replied, getting a sick twist of pleasure when Nate flinched, even as he felt the gut punch of Nate's own sorrow drift through their bond.

“I should never have called you that,” Nate said, looking away, though he didn't move from his place at Jake's side. “I... I was... scared. My father...”

And there was the reason that, even now, Jake couldn't hate Nate. Because Jake knew all about Nate's father. He had seen him in the drift, seen the harsh, cruel lines of his face, seen the glint of his belt buckle, felt the sting of leather across his skin. He knew why Nate had run so quickly to the recruiters, had poured his life into becoming a ranger. He knew, and in his heart, he knew that he had never blamed Nate for another man's hatred falling from his lips that day.

“I know, Nate,” Jake murmured, letting his head fall to the side so he could bump Nate's shoulder, an old, familiar gesture of comfort between the two of them. “I know. I... I forgave you a long time ago. Never forgave myself, but you... I'll always forgive you.”

“Forgave yourself?” Nate repeated, frowning. “Jake... you were a kid. You weren't thinking straight.”

“I'm never thinking straight,” Jake quipped. Nate looked at him for a moment, then groaned, letting his head fall so that he could press his forehead against Jake's collarbone as he chuckled.

“That was terrible,” he said sternly when he lifted his head, but Jake could see the laughter in his eyes.

“And yet you're the one who laughed,” Jake replied, grinning up at Nate. But then the grin faded. “It wasn't trying to pilot alone that I haven't forgiven myself for. It was... it was pushing you, pushing myself on you. I knew about your father, knew how he – you – felt about... people like me. And yet I still kissed you.”

“Jake...” Nate started, the pain back on his face. Slowly, as if he expected Jake to shove him away, Nate brought a hand up and traced his fingers gently across Jake's cheek and down his jaw, touch so light it might have been nothing but a breath of air, and yet Jake still felt as if every bit of contact was setting him on fire. “You make it sound like you forced yourself on me. You didn't. I knew how you felt. How could I not? There are no secrets in the drift, not as strong as our connection was, back before we learned how to hold ourselves back. I knew every thought you had, felt every dream... I could have stopped you. But I _wanted_ you so badly. God, Jake, I didn't know how to be away from you, how to _not_ touch you, how to _not_ curl around you as you slept, how to _not_ fall so painfully hard for you... When you kissed me, it was the best moment of my life. I'm so, so sorry that I wasn't strong enough not to be afraid.”

Jake looked at Nate, the agony in him throbbing through the residual drift that linked their minds. Unable to bear the sorrow in his old friend's face and heart, Jake reached up and wrapped his arms around Nate, crushing him to him. Nate went willingly, pressing into Jake, burying his face into the side of Jake's neck as Jake's arms wrapped around him and held him close. They stayed like that for a few long moments, words not being spoken, but emotions drifting between them. Then Nate lifted his head just enough so that he could see Jake's face.

“Jake...” he said, his voice low and warm, the determined glint that had lead him into Jake's bed last night back in his eyes. “I'm strong now.”

Jake barely had time to process what he was saying before Nate was kissing him, lips warm and sure against his own. Nate kissed him like he was drowning and Jake was his salvation, and Jake was absolutely okay with that.

Grinning eagerly, Jake wrapped his arms around Nate once more, splaying one hand across the toned expanse of his lower back and bringing the other up to thread through his hair as Jake returned the kiss with gleeful, glorious passion. Nate responded eagerly, pressing Jake into the mattress, grinding the long lines of their bodies together in a way that made Jake practically whimper. He felt Nate grin, then Nate did it again, pressing against Jake in a strong, sinuous roll that dragged their hips together and made Jake very aware of the fact that they were both very, very happy to be here, and that neither one of them was wearing much in the way of clothes.

“Kissing you is even better than I remember,” Nate murmured, pulling back so that he could grin down at Jake. His lips were red and swollen, his blond hair skewed in every direction, and his grey-green eyes were almost black with arousal. Jake worried that he would come at that very moment, the sight of Nate so tousled above him. He reached up, running a finger along Nate's ridiculous jawline. He leaned up, intending to press a kiss to Nate's throat, when his door slammed open.

“Hey Pentecost, are we training today or wh_AT THE SHIT_?!”

Jake and Nate both froze. Amara was standing in Jake's doorway, eyes huge, mouth hanging open as she stared at the pair of them pressed together on Jake's bed. Then she slapped her hand over her eyes and whipped around, fumbling blindly for the door as she kept her eyes covered, babbling.

“I didn't see anything, nope, definitely didn't see anything, I'll just tell the other cadets you're running late, yep, definitely running late because of a completely normal reason and not because_ you were making out with Ranger Lambert_. I am also going to find the biggest bottle of mind bleach ever because _seriously guys, put a damn sock on the door_.”

“Or you could learn to knock!” Jake grumbled, glaring at Amara. He was very studiously not looking at Nate, who had slid to the side and was doing his best impression of a statue.

“I did knock!” Amara replied vehemently, whipping around to glare at Jake, then slapping her hand back over her eyes when she remembered that she really didn't want to be seeing this. “You two were too busy getting it on to hear me! Now hurry up, Vik is starting to throw a fit and I don't wanna get tossed for knocking her teeth out.” With that Amara turned and marched out the door, slamming it shut behind her. Jake let out a breath and sank down against his pillow. Nate had slid slightly off of him, practically hiding behind him from Amara. Jake didn't look at Nate, dreading the panic and disgust he knew he would see in his eyes.

Then Nate sighed and let his head fall onto Jake's shoulder, burying his face against his neck.

“Is this what being an older sibling feels like?” he grumbled mournfully, pressing a light kiss to the base of Jake's neck that made Jake's whole body jump. “Because I'm pretty sure that Mako is laughing at us right now.” Jake turned his head sideways, looking at the half of Nate's face he could see. Nate was looking at him, a rueful smile quirking his lips into a line that Jake really wanted to kiss again.

“C'mon,” Nate said, leaning up and pressing a quick, sweet kiss to Jake's lips. “We better get out there before there's an insurrection. Or a search party.” He slid out from under the covers, making Jake immediately miss the press of his skin, and went over to Jake's closet, searching for clean uniforms for both of them. Jake just watched him, confused and a little afraid.

“Smalls won't say anything,” he said finally, voice unsure. “She's good like that.”

“I know,” Nate replied amiably, turning and tossing a uniform at Jake. “She's a good kid. Really looks up to you.” Jake shrugged, not knowing quite what to do. He had expected Nate to take off, or act like nothing had happened, or worse, tell Jake that it was all a mistake and that this could never happen between them again.

“Jake.” Nate's voice cut through Jake's thoughts and Jake was startled to realize that he was standing right beside the bed, looking down at him. “You're broadcasting loud enough that I would have to be _dead_ not to hear you. Stop worrying. I've had eleven years to think about this, and I am not going to take off or panic or do whatever it is you think I'm going to do. I want you. I loved you, once, when we were young, and I think I could again. If you feel the same way, then...”

Jake looked up at him, a slow grin spreading across his face. Sitting up, he buried his fingers into Nate's hair and kissed him soundly, tongue tracing the soft lips that he thought he would never get to kiss again, fingers curling through the soft blond hair that he decided he really, _really_ loved seeing mussed. Nate responded eagerly, then pulled away, laughing.

“We start that again and we're never going to make it out the door,” he said, giving Jake one more quick kiss before pulling away. “Now come on, Ranger Pentecost. We've got teenagers to train.” Jake groaned good-naturedly, but he threw back the covers and started to get dressed. It took him a little longer than normal, however, due to the fact that he was staring at Nate's ass the whole time.

When Rangers Lambert and Pentecost finally made it to the training room, Ranger Lambert apologized to the gathered cadets, saying he and Pentecost had been held up by command. The cadets all nodded, accepting this.

They also accepted the fact that Ranger Lambert was wearing a shirt that had 'Pentecost' on it, that his hair was as wild as they had ever seen it, and that Ranger Pentecost's shirt was definitely misbuttoned by at least two holes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I have no idea what the actual timeline is of when Jake got kicked out versus now, so I just freeballed it from what the movies implied. Also, there is another part to this series, which I will be posting shortly. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this ridiculousness and I would love to hear from you guys, comments are love and keep the writer fed. Cheers!


End file.
